


Minor, Difficult, Sensible Action

by foxontherun



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Body Worship, Bottom!Hannibal, M/M, Rimming, Weight Gain, daddy tummy, k i'm a little obsessed, tummy kink
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-17
Updated: 2014-03-21
Packaged: 2018-01-16 03:23:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1330072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foxontherun/pseuds/foxontherun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>More belly kink. Hannibal sprains his ankle, leaving Will to take care of him for 2 weeks while he rests up. All that good food and lack of exercise take a toll, and Will discovers just how much he loves it when Hannibal is under his care. (Minor weight gain, mostly belly and body worship.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Injury

**Author's Note:**

> O no I can't stop writing belly kink.

Will is mildly concerned when Hannibal doesn't open the door after the first ring of the doorbell. He waits for what he considers to be a respectful amount of time, and then rings again, brow wrinkled in confusion. Hannibal usually opens the door within seconds of the ring, always the gracious host. This time, the door opens Hannibal is standing there, looking mildly put-out, in a gorgeous forest-green suit with a tie to match, shot through with bright teal accents, and Will's gaze travels down his long, elegant legs to find not the usual sumptuous Italian leather shoes, but one shoe and a stasis cast firmly taped to one slim ankle, definitely breaking the line of the elegant suit. No wonder Hannibal looked disgruntled. Will raised his eyebrows, concern for his friend and lover fighting with the faint urge to giggle at how undignified a picture he presented.

 

"Hannibal, what happened?" He asked, reaching out to grip the other's shoulder.

"It's nothing, Will," Hannibal answered, calm as ever, despite his grim expression. "Merely a sprain. I was less than careful while jogging this morning and twisted my ankle rather severely."

Will helped Hannibal limp into the kitchen, where two stainless steel crutches were propped against the island. Hannibal was in the process of making risotto and baby lamb chops with balsamic glaze, and he propped himself up on a stool to resume stirring.

"What did the doctor say?" Will asked, inhaling the rich smell of the creamy rice dish, fragrant with fresh herbs.

"Will," Hannibal turned to give him a look, "I was the doctor. I diagnosed myself with a sprained ankle, and prescribed myself 2 weeks immobilizing the ankle with the cast, limited motion, plenty of bed rest, and some physical therapy." He returned to stirring.

"Physician heal thyself," Will murmured, and Hannibal shot him a sideways grin.

"Exactly," he said. "Good meals, minimal exercise, OTC pain medication, ice for the swelling, and I should be back to myself in a few short weeks." He gripped the counter and raised himself up, preparing to take the lamb out of the oven.

"Let me do that for you," Will said, rising at once to help lever the doctor back onto his stool. "If you're going to be swanning around the kitchen for 14 days you'll never heal properly." He grabbed the oven mitts and retrieved the lamb from the oven.

"Swanning, Will?" Hannibal asked faintly.

 

/////////

 

Dinner was delicious. Will had to lean back in his chair after the last bite of his caramel flan, to ease the pressure in his belly. He couldn't help overindulging whenever Hannibal cooked. The man's mastery in the kitchen was such that it seemed like an insult to deny himself every last delicious bite. Will noticed Hannibal discretely doing the same, arching his back slightly so that his belly pushed against the material of his waistcoat. Something stirred in Will, watching Hannibal sigh in satiated comfort and delicately sip the last of his wine. A warm coil of lust settled into his lower belly, and he wondered what, exactly it was that was so arousing about Hannibal in this state - mildly debauched and stuffed full of his own delicious cooking. There was something hedonistic and animal about his indulgence. Hannibal was usually such a controlled man, but to see him delight in the sensual pleasures was the closest Will ever got to seeing him slip the reins of his control. Listening to a soaring aria, dining on a perfectly prepared and balanced meal, and in the throes of orgasm. This was Hannibal heightened, the full raw power and force of him thrilled Will. They had only been sleeping together for a few weeks, but Hannibal was capable of taking Will's breath away. He was a perfect creature, a heady mix of refinement and feral hunger. Will's arousal throbbed low in his belly.

"Will?" Hannibal had been watching him for a few minutes, noting the slight flush staining Will's cheeks and the increased pace of his breathing. Something was arousing his lover, but he couldn't quite pinpoint what it was. When Will turned to him, his eyes held a heat that made Hannibal's breath catch. Whatever was turning the younger man on so, he wanted to pinpoint it. He wanted this heat from Will, who was a passionate but restrained lover, hesitant to voice his own desires and more than happy to follow Hannibal's lead. But this, this looked like hunger.

"When you said light exercise," Will said with a sly grin, "how light are we talking?"


	2. Healing

Lying in bed next to Hannibal, Will turns to look at the older man, running a hand through the smattering of hair on his chest and up to his shoulder, pulling him a little closer. They are both in a sort of post-orgasmic haze, and Will loves these moments with his lover, unguarded, the physical closeness feeling like a tight string running between them.

"I want to take care of you," he blurts out, and abruptly colors slightly as Hannibal raises an eyebrow at him.

"I don't require an abundance of care, Will," he says, covering Will's hand with his own. "It is merely a sprain. And, as I hope I've just proven, I'm fully functional otherwise."

"I know, I know," Will huffs out a breath, unsure how to put how he's feeling into words. "I just....you do so much for me, and it's going to be hard for you to get around. Let me help you. Let me do this for you."

Hannibal says nothing, just gazes at him with those unfathomable dark eyes, glinting red in the semi-dark. After a beat, he smiles at Will. Just a small smile, a slight crinkling around his eyes. "Alright," he replies. "I suppose I could accept some help. Provided it doesn't put you out in any way."

Will grins back. He wants nothing more than to pamper Hannibal. It's more than that though. He relishes the thought of having a little control over the man who seems so in control of himself. The much-lauded doctor, the healer, the man who held lives in his hands, that man, Will wants to...he doesn't exactly know. He wants to soothe him with music, to feed him delicacies, to run his tongue along every inch of his skin. He turns to lie on his back, one hand flung over his eyes. He has the feeling this is going to be an incredibly satisfying few weeks.

 

////

 

A few days into Hannibal's recuperation, and things have settled into a comfortable routine. Will and Hannibal wake up in the morning and they both go down to prepare breakfast. Hannibal mostly issues instructions, and Will is getting better at following them, though he takes some liberties. He makes more than the recipe calls for, and always adds a generous amount of whatever rich ingredient needs to be added. Extra butter, jam, hollandaise, thick syrups and sweet sauteed fruits get piled onto their plates, and Hannibal goes to lie in bed while Will brings him his breakfast. Will insists that he eat every bite, even when the doctor protests that he's full. He gets a thrill out of watching Hannibal moan around a forkful of Crepes Suzette, covered in whipped cream, licking the excess from his lips when he finishes. Often, afterwards, they lie in bed together, Will running his hands along Hannibal's torso and lingering on the swell of belly, pressing a little just to listen to the sounds Hannibal makes. He hopes he isn't being too obvious. He still hasn't sorted out what, exactly, is going on in his brain. He's turned on by feeding Hannibal, obviously, and feeling the results of his care. He's just not entirely sure why. Hannibal hasn't seemed to notice, however. He eats what he's given, taking obvious pleasure in finishing every last bite, groaning a little after he's finished and stretching in the bed, belly full and rounded underneath his silk pajamas. Then there are some physical therapy exercises, but more often than not he forgoes these for the morning and instead arches up into Will's searching hands, his cock filling and fattening, bumping up against his belly, and Will swallows him down, palming his own erection that strains against his shorts, bringing Hannibal to climax with his talented tongue and throat, while Hannibal pinches his own nipples and groans his release. Afterwards Hannibal takes him in hand, rubbing his long fingers against the weeping head of his cock, smearing precum down his shaft and curling his other hand around Will's testicles, rolling them and tugging on them and sucking heated kisses onto WIll's jaw, his neck, and biting down lightly on the junction between his neck and shoulder when Will comes, leaving a red mark on the tender meat there before soothing it away with his tongue.

 

This treatment lasts for a week. A blissful, lost week, as far as Will is concerned. But of course it can't last forever.


	3. Insatiable

Will returns from class on the Monday of the second week to find Hannibal sitting on the edge of the bed with an odd look in his eyes. He's shirtless, wearing only unbuttoned trouser bottoms, and Will's breath catches in his throat as he takes in Hannibal's body. His shoulders and chest remain lean and well-muscled. They've always held a masculine strength that Will found incredibly arousing, and they've remained so, wiry and strong. But underneath the faint jut of his ribcage, there is an undeniable belly. Soft and rounded, it arcs forward in a gentle slope from his ribs to his groin. It can't be that much, maybe 5 pounds he's put on, but his legs and chest remain lean. All the weight seems to settle in his belly, and when he leans forward, small lovehandles form over the waistband of his pants. Will's mouth goes dry. He's aware Hannibal is talking, but he misses it and has to interrupt.

"Sorry," he says, trying to tamp down the bolt of arousal that makes his cock twitch. "I was, uh, woolgathering."

"I said," Hannibal says firmly, "that I must begin exercising again. And cutting down on my portion sizes. I dislike this...softness. Just because I'm injured doesn't mean I have to let myself deteriorate physically." He glares down at his belly, pooching out over his pants. "These pants have always fit me perfectly," he says, grimacing at Will.

Will stands stock still, like a man caught in the midst of a crime. "Oh," he says, and then runs out of things to say because disappointment and arousal are both tugging at his insides in equal measure. He doesn't want Hannibal to go back to how he was before. He likes this softness. More than likes. He's never seen anything so hot in his life. He wants to pin him down and bury his face in that soft belly, biting and licking. He takes a step towards Hannibal and stops, because Hannibal catches his eye, and his whole face changes.

Hannibal's mouth goes dry at the look on Will's face. He looks wild, heated, his pupils blown with lust, his fingers twitching at his sides. Inwardly Hannibal grins to himself. Here is perfect confirmation of what he has suspected and has been testing all week. Will is aroused by feeding him. He's aroused by his weight gain. It has been worth this added softness to discover just what has been driving Will's increased libido this past week. He's been more forceful, more controlling, more hungry for Hannibal than he has ever been, and now Hannibal knows the reason. He holds Will's eye contact, and deliberately licks his lips, arching his back slightly and pushing his tummy out a little further.

"Or perhaps not," he says, and gives Will a wolfish grin.

Will is on him in a few short strides, hands pressing him insistently to the bed, straddling his thighs and pressing his insistent erection to the swell of Hannibal's belly. He moans at the feeling of the plush flesh against his cock, and nuzzles against Hannibal's neck before taking his head in both hands and devouring his mouth, meeting no resistance as he licks into the wet heat, feeling a groan run through Hannibal's body that he quickly swallows as he runs both hands from Hannibal's chest down to his belly, squeezing and rubbing, pinching at the soft pudge and causing his lover to jerk his hips upwards in surprise. He can feel Hannibal's cock swelling hard against his thigh as he pulls his own shirt off so that he can feel Hannibal's skin against his own, his rounded tummy against Will's flat one. He pauses for a moment to tug his pants off, and then Hannibal's, and then they're pressed together, Will's cock dripping precum as they slide their erections together. Hannibal is breathing in harsh pants at the feeling of Will's cock rutting against his, and at this sudden surge of dominance from the younger man. Hannibal relishes this reversal of their usual power dynamic, feeling an unexpected surge of lust when Will lowers his head to lap and bite at his nipples, and then scrapes his teeth along Hannibal's belly, sucking at the soft skin just underneath his belly button. It feels different, but also delicious to feel a layer of softness between Will's mouth and his muscles, still tight from years of discipline. The kisses press gently into his stomach and he let's out a moan when Will licks a wet swathe across the breadth of his belly, from one hip to the other.

"I want to fuck you," Will breathes, and looks up at Hannibal with pupils blown almost entirely black with hunger and arousal. Hannibal breathes out, slowly, and nods. He doesn't usually participate in this particular act - not that he's never done it before, but he usually prefers to be the one fucking into the tightness. It suits his nature, but his nature can be changeable. At this point he wants nothing more than to let this Will, this hungry, powerful creature take him. He wants to feel Will inside him, filling him up from the inside as much as he's been filling Hannibal up from the outside all week. He lets his knees drop apart, displaying himself to Will.

Will stares down at him, at his exposed hole, and has to bite back a moan. Hannibal has never let Will fuck him before - and Will hasn't asked. He's never even wanted it before, not really. He's content to let Hannibal take him, work him open and leave him gasping, desperate to be filled. But now, today, he wants nothing more than to bend down and lick a hot stripe down Hannibal's perineum to his pink, twitching hole. Hannibal arches his hips up at his, and Will flicks his tongue against him, feeling him gasp. He starts fucking him gently with his tongue, licking and sucking at his hole as he rubs a thumb up the underside of Hannibal's cock. Hannibal is breathing in harsh pants now, grunting and pushing his hips back against Will's tongue, letting it fill him. Will teases and licks around his hole, fucking him intermittently with his tongue until he is red and wet and open, and then slides one finger inside, crooking it upwards until he can feel the nub of Hannibal's prostate, and brushes against it. Hannibal moans and pushes against his finger, letting out a slur of words that don't sound remotely English. His fists are clenched against the sheets of the bed and his head is thrown back, belly proudly jutting out as his back arches. Will adds another finger, scissoring them and opening him up, brushing his prostate with every thrust, sucking one of Hannibal's testicles into his mouth, and then the other.

"Will," Hannibal says, trying to regain some control over his breathing. "I'm ready, Enough, I want you inside me."

Will's cock has been aching, neglected, save for a few strokes Will has given it to subdue the pain of sheer want. He stands and retrieves lube from the nightstand, slicking himself up and he pauses, the head of his cock brushing against Hannibal's hole, and reaches up to kiss Hannibal, warm and soft, his tongue tracing the man's gorgeous upper lip as he pushes slowly into him. Hannibal moans and snags Will's lower lip between sharp teeth and then Will is seated flush inside him, their hips pressing against one another. He stays like this for a moment, until Hannibal growls "Move." Then he starts fucking into him - a long slide out, and then a short sharp push in, fucking him deeply and slowly. He can't go much faster because he's in danger of coming too quickly. It's all so intense, the feeling of being inside Hannibal's tight heat - and he's so fucking tight, Will moans and slides deeper into him, thrusting his hips sharply. Hannibal is moaning too, shifting his hips, and suddenly lets out a loud noise, almost a cry, along with another slurry of foreign words that sound like curses as he finds an angle where Will's cock is hitting his prostate with each thrust. At this angle Will can see Hannibal's belly being pressed against his own thighs, soft pudge pressing through the gap where his thighs meet his body as Will presses them back to fuck Hannibal harder, and they're both moaning openly now, as Will takes Hannibal in hand and strokes his cock hard and fast and then Hannibal is crying out and spilling over Will's hand and the clenching and spasming of his body send Will shooting over the edge, shuddering and gasping as he spills himself inside Hannibal, his vision whiting out briefly as his orgasm races through him.

They lie tangled together afterwards, out of breath. Hannibal hasn't bothered to clean them up or even suggested that Will do so. They're both wrung-out, spent and blissfully limp in each other's arms. Will's head rests on Hannibal's belly and it rises and falls with each breath.

"So," Hannibal says when he regains his equilibrium. "You're aroused by weight gain."

Will blushes slightly. "Well," he says, "I seem to like your belly, yeah."

"You also enjoy feeding me and watching me eat," the doctor continues.

"I do, yeah," Will says. "Don't ask me why, I just do."

"We may have to explore this further," Hannibal says, and turns to look at Will, gently running his hand through Will's unruly curls.

"If you don't mind," Will says hesitantly, "I'd like to do that."

"We can figure it out together," Hannibal replies. "Think of it as a kind of therapy."

And he gives Will that hungry, wolfish grin.


	4. Exploration

A few days pass, since the discussion of Will's burgeoning weight gain fetish. Hannibal has some ideas to titillate Will, but he keeps them subtle. His appetite, he isn't surprised to note, has increased, meaning he can eat much larger portions of the rich food he and Will have been preparing and eating together. Often, in the middle of a meal, he leans back, his breathing labored, and gently runs his hands over his own straining belly, noticing Will flush and shift around in his seat. On one occasion, during the third course of a five course meal of sumptuous pastas and thick cuts of meat, he leans back, moaning slightly, the pressure in his already-full stomach providing a kind of sensual pain/pleasure mix as he feels both sated and hungry at the same time. He runs his fingertips down both sides of his belly, patting it lightly, noting how full and heavy it feels, and groans, unbuttoning the bottom few buttons of his too-tight dress shirt. All of his clothing is tailored to his exact measurements before they began this little experiment, so now he often feels tightly-bound in them, his belly pushing at the confines of his pants, his shirts, and his jackets. Once his belly is free from the shirt, he strokes it lightly, breathing unevenly as he struggles against the tightness in his abdomen. Will is now blatantly staring at his belly, his own breathing harsh and uneven. He's squirming in his chair and Hannibal notes his flush has pinkened the skin of his neck delightfully.

"Will," he says, still stroking the sensitive skin of his belly. "I want you to touch yourself."

Will starts a little at this, and brings his eyes quickly up to Hannibal's before dropping them back down to watch Hannibal's big hands gently massaging his stomach. He gulps, and then reaches down to unbutton his pants, which are straining now to contain his aching erection. He takes himself in hand and his eyes drop closed for a second as he starts stroking. When they open they fix on Hannibal's face, his head is thrown back slightly and he is moaning openly, rubbing and pinching his belly, massaging it, feeling it's heft. Will breathes out.

"You look so hot like this," he bites out between strokes. "Look at you, you're so stuffed full of your own cooking. You're getting so fat, Hannibal. So round and full."

Hannibal moans and shifts his hands downwards to stroke at his own erection through the soft fabric of his trousers.

"Wait," Will says, noticing his motions. "You have to finish your dinner first. Then you can cum."

Hannibal stops what he's doing to stare at Will. He loves this new dominance in the younger man. Loves that he can make Will feel so in control, show him the kind of man he is. He wants Will to feel powerful. He slowly removes his hand from himself and reaches again for the fork in front of him, resting one hand on the swell of his belly.

As he eats, Will continues to stroke himself slowly. After the next dish Hannibal is painfully full and painfully hard. He's reclined back as much as possible, stroking his belly, trying to control his breathing which is coming short and shallowly as the sweet, aching pressure of his belly threatens to overwhelm him. He places his fork down carefully on his plate and looks over at Will, who is pulling on his cock fast and hard now, leaking precum and slicking himself with it. Will nods quickly at him, and reaches over to place one hand on his belly, feeling it's warmth, and slides it downwards so it's cradling the sensitive skin underneath his belly button. Hannibal unbuttons his trousers and takes his hard length in hand, stroking fast. He's close anyways, from the sheer sensuality of the whole experience, not to mention the lust that radiates from Will like a wall of heat. Will squeezes his belly at the same time Hannibal swipes his thumb over the head of his cock, and that's enough to make him cum, his orgasm like a surge of white light, his hips bucking upwards, and he spills over his hand and belly, letting out a long moan. Will uses a finger and rubs it through Hannibal's semen, bringing it up to his lips to lick it off, and then he's coming as well, pinching and rubbing Hannibal's belly as he rocks forward and let's out a low cry.

Will helps Hannibal to bed, and cleans them both off. They spend a few minutes in a blissful afterglow, Will's head on Hannibal's chest, Hannibal stroking his hair.

"I think a dinner party is in order," Hannibal says, and then, "A small one," to forestall any complaints from Will. "Maybe we can invite Alana over," he suggests. And smirks at Will. "I'll wear my tightest suit," he says slyly.


End file.
